


Drunken Compliments

by Kendrickhier



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:26:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrickhier/pseuds/Kendrickhier
Summary: Samantha has a night to herself and decides to check out this local alien bar she's heard of, where she bumps into a drunk familiar face she feels compelled to bring home safely.





	Drunken Compliments

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist, based on one of those imagine your OTP prompts

It’s her first night out in the city on her own in a long time. With Ruby around she hasn’t gotten much time for herself, and even when she did she would have never entertained the thought of a bar, not willing to set a bad example for her daughter, who is currently at a sleepover with a friend. Still, now that she’s gotten wind of a local alien bar, after the incident that revealed she was stronger—so much stronger—than she thought she was, Samantha could not help herself and felt the need to check it out.

When she enters, there’s a shouting at the bar that draws her immediate attention where she finds two people risen from their bar stools, all up in each other’s faces. On the right there’s a buff masculine humanoid—though his dark green skin clearly indicates he is anything but human—grinning cruelly at the person on the left, a feminine humanoid with short dark hair, chopped reach just below her jawline.

She doesn’t recognize the man, but she certainly does recognize the woman: it was the same woman Ruby’d bumped into a while ago. She’d appeared friendly enough, but right now none of that friendliness was found, instead a clear rage evident on her face.

“What did you just say?” the woman hisses, clearly ready to throw a couple of punches. There’s a barely noticeable slur that tells Samantha she’s drunk.

“You heard me,” the guy states smugly, like he’s invincible, like she is nothing but an ant in his way and he is having fun playing with a magnifying glass, like Ruby had once done, captivated by how the light centered to single point and how it was able to burn a leaf. Not that she’d tried to burn any living creatures with it, however small.

The woman nearly growls and Samantha can see her tense her muscles to throw herself at him. A quick glance around the room tells her that no one is planning to intervene in what is sure to become a violent fight.

“You motherfuc—“ She throws her arm back, and Samantha springs to action, as instinctive as trying to catch a falling vase. Her arms surround the woman from the back faster than she thought she’d be able to, but she’s not about to question it when the woman pulls against her and still tries to land a punch on the green guy. “—Hey, let go of me!“

But Samantha holds on tight, pulling her further and further back as she doesn’t let up her struggling, until eventually they’re out the door she came in just barely a minute prior. Perhaps rather than trying her hand at drinking, this was the reason she’d felt drawn to this place. “You need to calm down.”

There’s a frustrated grunt coming from the woman she’s holding as she gives a final strong tug in an attempt to break the hold—one Samantha actually struggles with holding—before she gives up, body relaxing, much to her relief. “You’re strong,” the woman comments, turning her head in what Sam thinks is an attempt to get a glimpse of the face of her captor.

Samantha releases her then, and as expected the woman turns to get a good look at her, which is followed by a slight widening of eyes when recognition dawns on her. “Fun kid’s mother,” she murmurs, appearing somewhat mortified and tugging on her jacket, straightening it like it could save whatever dignity she thinks she’s just lost.

It appears she’s not the only one who remembered that encounter. “That’d be me. You need a ride home?”

“I’m fine,” she replies immediately, defensive, gesturing towards one of the motorcycles as she continues, “It’s not that far, I can drive-“

Samantha cuts her off. “You’re drunk,” she points out, with the patience of a mother who’s dealt with plenty temper tantrums in her lifetime. “You can pick up your bike in the morning.”

The woman looks like she’s about to argue again, before something shifts in her expression, a lazy grin appearing on her face instead. “Well, if you insist.”

And so the two of them got into Samantha’s car and drove off, the other woman—whose name appeared to be Alex, which she refused to give until Samantha’d done the same—giving her directions on where to go rather than outright giving out her address. Save for the sound of said directions and the soft music in the background, the ride was spent in relative silence, until Alex told her to stop in front of an apartment complex.

“Thanks for the ride,” Alex says, words noticeably more slurred than before, before fumbling with the seatbelt to get it off. That appears to be a bigger challenge than she’d anticipated.

“Don’t mention it.”

Alex finally manages to unbuckle her belt and steps out of the car, stumbling and swaying as she gets back to her feet and walks towards the entrance of the building, leaving her car door wife open. She appears much less controlled and significantly more drunk than she did before she got into the car; Samantha supposes it’s because whatever adrenaline that had kept her upright before has worn off during their peaceful car ride.

She’s such a mess that Samantha feels compelled to get out of the car as well, closing both doors before moving to steady Alex with a supporting hand. “Let me walk you to your door. Wouldn’t want you to fall down the stairs,” she suggest gently.

There is irritation in her eyes when Alex turns her head towards her, and Samantha is certain she’s going to be told off this time, but when their eyes meet Alex softens, like she’s seen something in her eyes. “Fine,” she concedes.

They walk inside the building and up the staircases together, Samantha following along behind Alex and actually having to keep her from falling down the stairs once, perhaps twice, for Alex’s imbalance is causing her to lean back too much. The woman fumbles with the keys in front of her door, struggling to get the piece of metal into the slot, but finally does succeed and leaves the door open for Samantha to follow her.

By now Alex looks like she’s about ready to crash, and with Samantha’s support she ends up making it to her bed, letting herself fall down on top of the blankets. She looks at Samantha, her eyes glazed over, but her lips pull into a lazy smile as she dozes off, murmuring, “Thanks, pretty lady.”

Samantha colors a light red at the complimentary words, but then gets a hold of herself; this woman is drunk. If those sentiments stay when she’s sober then maybe this is something to think about, but for now this is nothing to lose composure over.

Still, it’s enough to make Samantha want to make sure the woman is cared for properly, pulling the woman’s shoes off and pull the other end of the two person blanket over Alex, and rummage through the kitchen cabinets to find her a glass of water and an advil for when she wakes in the morning. She also writes a note.

_Alex,_

_My number, in case you forgot where you parked your motorcycle, or if you ever want to meet properly._

_Samantha Arias (“fun kid’s mother”)_


End file.
